Day 1
Life 1: Day 1
Day 1 Schedule:
Morning – Class Selection
Afternoon – Welcoming Speech
Evening - Head to the Library and Research(Your Magic)
-
Joshua woke to the soft chime of the Redhook's internal bell — a soft, resonant note like a tuning fork struck against crystal. Light filtered through the round window above his bed, catching motes of dust in the air. His breath moved in perfect time with the train's steady rhythm.
For a heartbeat as he woke up, he didn't know where he was — then the pulse of the train beneath his spine answered him: the Linehouse.
The lighting in the room gradually warmed, mimicking dawn. Coppery dusk shifted into soft rose-gold. The cabin walls, alive with quiet enchantment, seemed to breathe with the pulse of the train. And somehow he could feel the Linehouse shuddered softly, like a beast stretching its spine, and the gentle pulse that carried him last night still lingered faintly in his limbs.
He sat up. The quilt sloughed off his shoulders, shimmering from iron-gray to a deep amber. His boots were warm — as if they'd been waiting beside a hearth. Every movement came too easy today, as though something beneath the surface of this place had synced to him. Or maybe it was the other way around.
Before he could finish stretching, this time a knock echoed from the cabin door.
"Coming," Joshua called, already dressing — slipping into his duster, tightening his belt, buckling the holster with practiced ease. There was a smooth rhythm in every motion as if the train had taught his body how to move.
He swung open the door — and nearly collided with a floating tray.
It hovered gracefully, bearing two mugs of something hot and sharp-scented.
"Morning, Joshua," came the voice behind it.
Ashford stood in the corridor, flame-headed as ever, his vest replaced by a smoking jacket. He sipped casually from his mug, the liquid vanishing directly into the fire where his mouth should be.
"You're burning daylight," he said.
"Hey, Ashford," Joshua replied, accepting the offered mug. "What is this?"
"Hangover cure."
Joshua sniffed it — steam rose thick with spice and honey. Oddly, he didn't feel bad after last night's drinks, but he still took a sip, out of respect for the man's craftsmanship. It warmed him instantly, all the way down.
"Hey, firsty," came another voice — nasal, dry, and unmistakably amused.
Flickwick appeared, clutching a box made of driftwood and bone, her shark-like grin already sharp enough to cut glass.
"You want a drink?" Ashford offered her.
"I'm all good. No offense, but that was nothing compared to what the mad grenadiers distill in their workshop back home. Hella though will need a whole keg of it after the beating she took last night." She cackled, delighted by her own joke.
Then she turned to Joshua. "Are you coming to breakfast?"
He opened his mouth, but she cut him off with a pointed clawed finger.
"Don't be the kind of rookie who skips meals. Trust me — you're gonna need every calorie today." With that, she spun on her heel and sauntered off, humming something to herself.
Joshua downed the rest of the drink in two gulps, wincing slightly as it seared his throat in the most comforting way. He handed the mug back to Ashford, who nodded and turned down the corridor toward the other cabins.
Then he followed after Flickwick — toward whatever the day had waiting for him.
-
They descended a spiral staircase that hadn't been there yesterday and walked across a connector bridge into a car that looked like an old-fashioned rail diner — chrome fixtures and cracked red booths lined both walls, humming slightly with warmth.
"You're up," Brandon greeted from behind the counter, wearing a chef's hat and a stained apron. He flipped something pancake-like with a flourish.
"The food here's basic normal stuff," Flickwick said, waving a hand toward the steam trays filled with eggs, oats, flapjacks, and something brown and vaguely sausage-shaped. "But the good stuff, and it's safe to eat. No one's ever grown a second mouth from it."
Joshua didn't need more encouragement. He helped himself, piling his plate high, then slid into a booth. Taking a bite of the eggs which thankfully tasted like real eggs — maybe a little too fluffy — and trying the juice which was also just... normal juice. It grounded him, he had more than enough magic nonsense from yesterday, and to start off with normal food was plenty for him.
Around him, other Redhook residents filtered in. Some wore crisp uniforms; others stumbled in still half-wrapped in quilts or wearing bathrobes and mismatched socks. Hella slumped into a nearby booth, clutching her screaming skull-shaped mug like a lifeline and muttering curses under her breath.
Conversation was light until Flickwick muttered through a mouthful of eggs, "Man, imagine if we had cafeteria food."
Brandon clutched his chest like he'd been stabbed. "You wound me."
"I love your cooking, big guy," Flickwick replied without missing a beat, "but come on — you know how amazing that stuff is."
"What's so special about cafeteria food?" Joshua asked, not knowing the difference.
"What? Have you never heard of the legends of the school cafeteria?" Velka called out.
"It's my second day," Joshua said flatly.
"Well, my friend," Marrow said, who was thankfully not wearing his face today. "The school cafeteria is the real deal. It's not just food, but sorcery on a plate. Magic served hot. There is meat from great magical beasts like cuts of leviathan, slivers of phoenix breast, coils of deep-sea wyrm smoked in void spices. Potions are served in runic bowls, thick like stew, each one brewed for strength, clarity, and other effects. Fruits and vegetables fresh from the magical greenhouses each as strange and wondrous as the other. And so many other amazing dishes."
"And," Velka chimed in, lowering her voice theatrically, "they say the recipes are kept in vaults under the kitchens. Behind enchanted locks and eldritch seals. No one's seen the cooks, not properly anyways. Just shadows behind the steam. Chanting in some strange language."
Joshua blinked. "That... sounds amazing."
"It is," she admitted. "And also potentially fatal."
"Potentially? That place is an ungodly warzone," Neal stated.
"I heard there was a food fight over a dimensional cinnamon tart last semester," Brandon gossiped. "The Lunch Lady got angry and some students got turned into baked goods as punishment."
Laughing loudly, Flickwick sarcastically remarked, "Don't tell me they were served for breakfast the next day."
Brandon didn't answer at all.
Picking up the conversation was surprisingly Virelle, stirring her tea. "The upper classmen and house-legacy, hoard all the magical food for themselves. There is no way they will allow rift-raft like you within ten feet of the place."
"Does that include you, Virelle?" Hella asked, raising an eyebrow with a teasing grin. Virelle only sniffed as she turned her head away.
Joshua stared down at his plate, suddenly wondering why his toast started to feel inadequate.
-
Joshua was nearly finished with his plate when a faint jingle rippled through the car — high and bright, like sleigh bells dipped in honey and spun through polished brass. The floor beneath his boots gave a gentle thump as something large and wheeled rumbled its way down the aisle.
Flickwick's ears twitched. "Oho. Look who decided to show up."
The Trolley had arrived.
It clattered through the dining car like royalty on tour — a towering brass contraption stitched together from ancient vending machines, lacquered cabinets, and rolling carts. It shimmered with fading enchantments and smelled of warm vanilla, cocoa, and just a hint of ozone. Teacups clinked gently against its frame. Jars of glowing lollipops pulsed with soft light. A copper bell swayed atop its frame, chiming in rhythm with no visible breeze.
A velvet curtain fluttered open near the center, revealing more glittering confections inside. The entire machine radiated anticipation.
With a cheerful ding!, the trolley rolled to a stop directly in front of Joshua. A lollipop floated forward — perfectly spherical, color-shifting from ruby to cobalt, to silver, to a green so deep it tugged at something in his memory.
Joshua blinked. "What… is this?"
"The Trolley Cart," Ume said from across the booth. "Oldest resident aboard Redhook, it's always been on the train ever since the first resident came aboard. No one knows who made it, or even what it is."
The trolley gave a hiss, as if impatient. A coin slot opened at its side with a whispering shick, revealing a gleaming brass plate:
Insert: Currency of Significance.
Joshua rummaged through his pocket he didn't have much, just pennies and nickels — nothing special which it refused them all. He hesitated, then offered a nickel he'd carried since childhood, one he'd once found in a ghost town.
The trolley purred. The coin vanished, and with a delighted hum, the trolley dropped a treat into his hand. The entire machine vibrated like a pleased cat, then rolled onward down the aisle.
Other students reached for their wallets, but the trolley hissed at their offerings — bills, plastic cards, even foreign coins — and rolled away in audible offense, refusing what they had.
Flickwick raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Looks like it liked you. Trolley's picky. Some folk go a whole year without it accepting a thing."
Joshua turned the mysterious treat over in his hand. It shimmered black now, and a slow, eerie tune played from deep within it — something nostalgic, yet unplaceable.
"Does it always trade fair?" Joshua asked.
Ume gave him a sidelong look. "Oh, no. It trades true. But fair? Depends on who you are and what you gave. You might hand it a coin worth nothing to anyone but you, and it'll hand you a miracle. Other times, it'll just belch smoke and give you a caramel that screams when you chew it."
[A/N: You're dirt-poor, so I'll let you roll for one treat.]
Trolley Cart Candy Roll: 1 Bad to 6 Amazing
Sour Jawbreaker 2. Black Ghost Licorice 3. Fizzberry Cordial 4. Redhook Rush Bar 5. Conductor's Popdrop 6. Soultrack Swirl
Rolled 2, Black Ghost Licorice
A twisted, matte-black coil of licorice that absorbs light around it. When held in the hand, it feels strangely cold, and when chewed, it crackles faintly like distant whispers or static. It leaves a faint grey stain on the tongue, which barely fades.
Taste: Bitter-sweet, with undertones of ash and mint. Feels like chewing on silence.
Effect – Ghostshade Veil: For the next 24 hours, the user is lightly phased between the physical and spiritual realm. While under this effect: You cannot be detected by basic magical detection spells
[A/N: Find different currencies & trade it in at the trolley for magical treats!]
"It's like testing currencies from other realms," Hella remarked, nursing her coffee. "Don't expect it to be so generous next time, newbie."
"And don't try to rob it," Marrow added, voice hollow. "One idiot tried last year. Snatched a jar off its shelf. The Trolley screeched like a banshee, spat wheels, and rolled after him full-speed. Then it vanished for a whole month."
Joshua frowned. "What happened to the thief?"
"Never saw him again. My bet? Ground into candy paste."
He looked again at the shimmering treat in his hand. It had gone ashen color now, its surface humming with faint whispers. He tucked it away carefully — whatever it was, it wasn't for now.
Ume drained her tea and stood with a stretch. "Well. You're one of the lucky few. It likes you. Or maybe it wants something from you. Either way… you'll see it again."
She gave him a sly wink and tapped her glowing orb awake. "Come on, Joshua. You've got class registration next. Time to figure out what kind of mage you're gonna be — before the train figures it out for you."
-
Joining the others at a terminal machine once they were done with breakfast, Joshua watched as they tapped things in the display port. The screen shimmered faintly with arcane light, each input met with a chime. Thankfully, Brandon stood nearby, ready to explain.
"It's the train's navigation system," Brandon said, pointing to the display. "You enter your stop here and it'll drop you off as close as it can."
"Beats those greedy transport goblins," Hella added, stabbing her selection into the panel with one sharp nail.
"There you go," Marrow said, already tapping away on Joshua's behalf. "I put your stop at the Class Registry Office. You're only able to get on and off the train during three specific windows: 6 AM, 12 PM, and 6 PM. Miss it, and you'll have to wait for the next window. The Linehouse can find you anywhere there's tracks within those hours — assuming you're still alive to be found."
"Talk about grim," Flickwick said as she stepped up to enter her destination. "I'm sure the firsty will make it through the first day… maybe."
"Very funny," Joshua remarked, eyeing what flicked up to the upper display as it listed the approaching destinations. The first stop read: Wyrmhollow Forgeworks
The Redhook Linehouse gave a tired groan as it hissed to a halt, steam curling off its pipes like sighing ghosts. A low bell chimed overhead—three soft notes. The doors creaked open with a hiss. Outside, a massive forge-mountain belched red smoke into the morning sky. Lava channels glowed like veins through dark rock, and golem-smiths hammered thunderously in open crucibles of iron and light. A trio of heavily armored students walked [ast, one of them hoisting a metal backpack the size of a small coffin.
Velka stepped off and gave them a wave as the doors closed and the train surged away.
Their next stop was called Mirewood Spire
A tall tower of gnarled, bark-covered stone rose from a swampy mire, coiled with vines and luminous will-o'-wisps. A canopy of moss-shrouded trees stretched into the foggy distance. Erin who he barely noticed all this time stepped off, boots squelching into enchanted reeds. "See you later, guys," he muttered barely above a whisper, a giant dragonfly buzzed past his head.
Joshua watched the doors seal again. A shudder ran through the train, and the Redhook roared to life.
Finally his stop came, as the train pulled to a halt, Joshua stepped out into an elevated stone platform slick with morning dew. His boots clicked across ancient tiles. The air was crisp and cool, scented faintly with ozone, old paper, and something oddly floral. Around him, dozens of students disembarked from their transports: flying ships, glowing rune-wagons, living statues, one even arriving atop a floating jellyfish.
The platform swelled with activity. Robes flared, familiars leapt from trunks, spell-scrolls unfolded and whispered to their owners. It was like walking into an open-air bazaar for madness. Overhead, a floating brass sign pointed toward Class Registry in three languages.
The main road beyond the platform twisted into an uphill spiral. Others floated upward or zipped past on arcane devices. Joshua climbed on foot, his pace slow and steady.
At the summit sat the Class Registry Tower, a crystalline spire veined with silver ivy and rotating glyphs. A wide stairway, ever-shifting in pattern and material, led inside. Arcane currents pulsed visibly beneath its translucent surface, and humming spell-sigils drifted lazily in the air like pollen.
A wide stairway led to the entrance, its material shifting with each step—from jade, to marble, to volcanic glass, never quite the same beneath your feet. The moment he stepped through the archway, cool air wrapped around him. The structure hummed like a tuning fork.
Inside, the space opened into a vast rotunda lined with floating marble counters and levitating registry kiosks, each orbited by translucent screens of glowing text. Hundreds of students wandered the open chamber, their expressions bouncing between awe, confusion, and excitement. Above them, banners drifted and curled like scrolls of silk, displaying class rosters, magical regulations, and requirements.
The attendants that were helping with class registration were beings of shimmering light and shifting form. Ghostly apparitions of knowledge and wisdom, their faces flickered with calm expressions, each voice resonating with uncanny precision, tailored to soothe and direct. They moved with choreographed grace—floating rather than walking, adjusting displays, assisting newcomers, and welcoming every arrival with gentle, personalized greetings.
A sign floated above him in golden script: Welcome, First-Year. Please Begin Your Registration. Your Choices Today Will Shape the Arc of Your Story.
Approaching one of the waiting kiosks, an attendant turned its head and intoned, "State your name and magical inclination."
Joshua stepped forward and gave a slight nod. "Joshua Samuelson. Reinforcement Magic."
For a brief moment, the attendant's eyes flared a soft violet, and its voice deepened with ancient cadence. "Confirmed. Based on your magical affinity and aptitude, the following Class Tracks are now available:"
A glowing row of class options unfurled before him, each glyph pulsing with latent potential...
-
Alright, it's Class Selection Time!
First let's choose how many you want to take this Semester?
Information Chart on Classes
1 Class(1 Stress & 3 Actions per week) Relaxing Level
An easy academic pace. Ideal for students recovering from injury, exploring independent study, or focusing on extracurriculars. Can get in lots of personal training, bonding time, side jobs, and grand adventures.
2 Classes(2 Stress & 6 Actions per week) Steady Level
An okay load. Allows you to progress steadily while leaving room for exploration and social growth. Allows consistent training, club activities, adventures, studying, and experimenting.
3 Classes(3 Stress & 9 Actions per week) Moderate Level
A manageable load for disciplined students. You'll start to feel pressure, but rewards grow in tandem. Modest side pursuits, occasional field missions and adventures, some downtime to chill and study.
4 Classes(4 Stress & 12 Actions per week) Rigorous Level
You got a lot to juggle. Time becomes scarce. Tough to do all that you want like training, side quests, bonding, studying, experimenting., etc. Its Late-night cram sessions. Risk of some risk of magical fatigue
5 Classes(5 Stress & 15 Actions per week) Overloaded Level
Borderline masochistic. You're burning candles and mana at both ends. Mistakes happen, tempers flare. Mostly classwork everyday, minimal social interaction, high potential for burnout.
6 Classes(6 Stress & 18 Actions per week) Nightmare Level
Are you trying to die? This is for academic martyrs or madmen. Faculty may question your sanity. It's survival mode, zero downtime, dream arguments with textbooks.
-
Classes:
Alright let's pick your Classes! Come up with what you want to take.
Example: Guns, lots of Guns
Class 1: Guncaster Fundamentals: Channeling Through Firearms!
"Every trigger pull is a spell."
Instructor: Cassian Varn, a retired Oni bounty hunter feared and respected across realms for his deadly sharpshooting skills and arcane prowess. Once known as the "Crimson Bolt," Cassian lost his right arm in a dimensional invasion—but returned wielding a mystic prosthetic which seamlessly doubles as a high-caliber rifle and arcane conduit. Gruff, disciplined, and fiercely pragmatic, he teaches from experience—drilling his students with battlefield wisdom, brutal honesty, and the belief that a gun is only as good as the soul behind the trigger.
Class Type: Hybrid(Magic + Martial)
Class Description:
This foundational course teaches aspiring magic gun users the delicate and powerful art of channeling magical energy through firearms. Students learn to transform ordinary bullets into conduits of kinetic and elemental power, enabling their shots to strike with amplified force or supernatural effects. The class emphasizes the harmony between gun mechanics and spellcasting, demanding a blend of precision, timing, and magical control.
While the firearm serves as the primary focus, the class also addresses bodily discipline to prevent magical backlash and weapon overload — critical for any mage who dares to wield gunpowder and mana as one.
What You Learn:
Magical Theory & Core Mechanics
Spell Conduction Theory: How arcane energy flows through non-living materials such as gunmetal, wood, and alloy composites. Why certain firearms resonate better with specific spell types.
Weapon-Magic Synchronization: The arcane interplay between firing mechanisms and magical timing — how barrel alignment, chamber rotation, and recoil influence spellcasting accuracy and power.
Spell Timing Integration: Learning to weave spells into combat actions like shooting, reloading, and movement for fluid magical execution.
Applied Techniques
Bullet Infusion Methods: Techniques to imbue bullets with kinetic energy, elemental payloads, or temporary enchantments.
Arcane Target Marking: Methods to tag targets mid-combat using magical signatures to improve spell homing, tracking, or post-impact effects.
Magical Backlash Prevention: How to reinforce weapon parts and maintain firing stability to avoid overheating, arc flares, or structural meltdown.
Gun-Body Synchronization: Reinforcement training that conditions the caster's body to instinctively align with the weapon — resulting in faster aim, smoother draw, and better recoil control.
Combat Conditioning
Magical Recoil Training: Building the bodily and mental resilience needed to handle arcane-augmented recoil without disrupting casting flow.
Field Spellcasting: Live combat simulations designed to test reflexes, accuracy, and magical composure under live-fire conditions.
Class Components:
Lectures:
Arcane energy theory and bullet channeling principles
Magical metallurgy: how bullet composition affects spell efficacy
Gun mechanics and magical integration basics
Workshops:
Hands-on bullet enchantment using elemental and kinetic infusions
Practical mark-targeting exercises under pressure
Weapon reinforcement and on-the-fly repairs during simulated combat
Field Training:
Live-fire drills combining spellcasting and firearm use
Reaction time enhancement and recoil control under pressure
Tactical drills involving multi-target scenarios
Skills Gain:
Guncasting: The foundational skill of channeling magic, spells, enchantments through firearms with precision and control.
Arcane Firearm Handling: Mastery of magical firearm mechanics, balancing aim, mana flow, and recoil management.
Magical Marksmanship: Enhanced precision and targeting under pressure, using magic to read battlefield shifts and enemy movements.
Signature Spell:
SpellBullet: Core offensive spell to infuse bullets with elemental or kinetic magic, amplifying damage and effects.
Armament Empowerment: Overcharge weapon with man, enhancing weapon durability, magical energy conduction, and recoil control while supercharging bullet velocity, impact force, and elemental payloads.
Hitman's Mark: By focusing on enemy can gauge mana signature, exposing weak points, magical resistances, and spellcasting style. Once locked on, attacks benefit from enhance bullet tracking and trigger additional spell effects upon impact.
Bullet Time: Momentary slowing of time perception to increase accuracy and tactical advantage.
-
Class 2: Arcane Gunsmithing — Building Magical Firearms
"Your weapon is your partner — craft it like one."
Instructor: Elra Vintock, a dwarven artificer and former battlefield engineer, known for crafting legendary artillery that have ended wars back on her homeworld. With her enchanted cannon hammer "Spite," she can forge magic into steel and of you with a single shot. Elra teaches with a no-nonsense attitude, demanding perfection from her students — because in her words, "You don't get second chances when your barrel explodes."
Class Type: Artifice + Applied Magic
Course Overview
Arcane Gunsmithing is the essential course for anyone serious about building, modifying, and maintaining magical firearms. Students learn to blend mechanical engineering with enchantment theory, forging firearms that are more than tools — they're arcane extensions of the wielder's will.
This class covers every component of a firearm, from barrel composition to trigger enchantments, breaking down how each element can affect spell channeling, magical compatibility, and combat longevity. Special focus is placed on battlefield repairs and mid-combat enhancements — because a true gunslinger doesn't wait for a break in the fight.
What You Learn
Magical Engineering Fundamentals
Magical Metallurgy: Understanding magical alloys (like star-iron, mana-tempered steel, emberglass) and how they influence mana conductivity, durability, and recoil.
Enchantment Anchoring: Techniques to inscribe stable enchantments onto moving parts without disrupting firing function or mana flow.
Runic Patterning: Crafting custom runes into firearms to affect aim assistance, elemental layering, mana efficiency, and post-impact effects.
Customization & Upgrades
Modular Barrel Systems: Design and install barrel types optimized for elemental bullets, kinetic burst shells, or beam-channeling.
Trigger Runes & Firing Glyphs: Embed magical trigger sequences that release stored spells on impact or over time.
Infusion Chambers: Integrate compartments for potion-imbued rounds, alchemical payloads, or aetheric accelerants.
Maintenance & On-the-Fly Adjustments
Field Repair Techniques: Repair jammed glyphs, cracked barrels, and drained spell-batteries under combat pressure.
Adaptive Tuning: Calibrate firearms to harmonize with a wielder's mana signature, improving spell accuracy and reducing magical recoil.
Elemental Swapping: Install systems allowing a quick-switch between fire, ice, wind, or arcane-infused ammunition.
Class Components
Workshops
Hands-on forging in elemental forges with enchanted smithing tools
Building your first custom guncaster weapon from scratch
Etching and energizing runes with arcane stabilizers
Lectures
Magical conductivity in firearm components
Comparative studies of magitech vs. mundane gun design
Energy diffusion and magical safety mechanisms
Practicals
Simulated battle repairs on damaged spellfire arms
Recoil testing with various alloy-glyph configurations
Performance tuning based on affinity diagnostics
Skills Gained
Arcane Gunsmithing — The specialized craft of designing, forging, modifying, and maintaining magical firearms with deep mechanical and arcane integration.
Runic Engraving — The precise and old craft of inscribing magical symbols (runes) onto physical surfaces to anchor spells, channel mana, or influence reality.
Magical Engineering(Mechanical) — Understanding applied science and craft to combine mechanical technology with arcane forces to create functional, reliable, and often dangerous magical constructs, tools, and weapons.
Magic Metallurgy — Working knowledge of magical metals, their effects on spellcasting, and forging processes that brings them to life.
Signature Spell:
GunSync: Harmonizes the wielder's magical energy with their firearm, boosting spellcasting precision, weapon responsiveness, and firing rhythm during combat.
Mend / Shatter: A dual-purpose spell to either repair minor damage and magical wear on a firearm or intentionally fracture and disable it by focusing destructive arcane energy.
Modular Recalibrate: Magically reconfigures and rearranges firearm components on the fly—barrels, magazines, sights—allowing instant battlefield customization without physical tools.
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Class 3: Magical Ballistics: Mastering Magical Ammunition & Gunpowder
"Every bullet tells a story — master the magic within its flight."
Instructor: Liora Fenwick, a renowned high elf arcane physicist and alchemist whose groundbreaking work on spellballistics revolutionized magitech warfare. Calm, precise, and highly analytical, Liora bridges theoretical magic with practical application.
Class Type: Arcane Science + Alchemy
Course Overview
This class dives into the core components that make magical firearms deadly and reliable: the properties of gunpowder, the design and crafting of enchanted cartridges, and the physics of projectile motion infused with magic. Students will learn the chemistry and arcane theory behind alchemical powders, bullet materials, and cartridge construction to maximize damage, efficiency, and utility.
Special emphasis is placed on the relationship between physical and magical forces during bullet propulsion and flight, as well as how to create reliable, specialized ammo for different combat scenarios. Explores the hidden journey of magical projectiles: how spells behave mid-flight, interact with physical and metaphysical forces, and deliver effects on impact.
What You LearnGunpowder & Propellant Science
Alchemical Gunpowder Formulation: Crafting powders with different elemental bases (fire, ice, lightning) and arcane stabilizers for enhanced burn rates and magical output.
Combustion & Mana Release: Understanding how magical gunpowder combusts alongside mana to propel bullets while maintaining spell integrity.
Powder Quality Control: Identifying and mitigating contaminants or instability risks that cause misfires or magical feedback.
Ammunition Design & Crafting
Cartridge Construction: Designing cartridges that efficiently house powder, bullets, and magical foci without disrupting energy flow.
Bullet Materials: Selecting and forging metals, crystals, and composites optimized for mana conduction, durability, and elemental affinity.
Sealing & Enchanting Runes: Applying protective seals and runes to cartridges for stability, magical discharge control, and enhanced flight.
Ballistics & Projectile Behavior
Projectile Physics & Magic Interaction: How velocity, trajectory, and arcane energy combine to affect range, accuracy, and spell effects.
Recoil & Pressure Dynamics: Managing the physical stresses caused by enchanted gunpowder combustion and rapid mana discharge.
Cartridge Performance Tuning: Adjusting bullet weight, powder charge, and enchantment strength for specialized rounds like armor-piercing, explosive, or tracking bullets.
Class Components
Lectures:
Ballistics fundamentals: velocity, drag, trajectory with arcane overlays
Chemical and arcane properties of gunpowder and propellants
Cartridge engineering principles and magical integration
Workshops:
Crafting elemental and hybrid gunpowder
Building and enchanting multi-component cartridges
Testing ballistic properties under different magical conditions
Field Trials:
Firing trials with varied ammunition types to evaluate effectiveness
Tactical use drills of specialized ammunition
Combat scenario simulations with layered spell effects
Skills Gained:
Alchemy(Gunpowder): Mastery of magical and alchemical properties of powders and propellants—balancing volatility, combustion rates, and stability for optimized performance through arcane science.
Arcane Physics(Ballistics): Understanding the magical principles governing the flight, trajectory, and behavior of enchanted projectiles and spells in motion.
Magical Crafting(Ammunition): Designing, enchanting, and customizing bullets, shells, and cartridges with specific arcane effects and elemental properties.
Signature Spell
Kinetic Reservoir: Absorb recoil and movement into a stored reservoir of force. This stored momentum can be discharged to amplify the caster's next shot, empower body, or amplify physical strikes — enabling burst movement, enhanced bullet penetration, or sudden surges.
Vector Control: Can subtly manipulate the velocity, arc, and trajectory of projectiles mid-flight. Shots can curve around obstacles, accelerate unexpectedly, or slow to strike with precise timing
Volatile Catalyst: Transforms ordinary substances into highly reactive explosive agents through magical acceleration of combustion and volatile reactions.
Powderweave: Manipulate and refine any loose powder or particulate — whether mundane gunpowder, enchanted dust, or volatile alchemical reagents. Can be used to concentrate, reshape, suspend, or distribute powder.
--
Body: based on D-tier Talent! 1d8 Roll
Mind: based on Average of both! 1d6 Roll
Spirit: based on Common Magic! 1d4 Roll
Core Stats & Resource Pools
Your character's abilities are defined by three primary stats: Body, Mind, and Spirit. Each stat is tied to a key resource pool: Health, Stress, and Mana.
1. BODY
Primary Use: Physical actions, defense, melee, stamina.
Roll: 1d8 (D-tier Talent).
Resource: Health
Roll: 2d8
Health Recovery:
Rest: Recover 1dBody.
Potions: Magical or alchemical healing.
Magic: Healing spells or enchantments.
Medical Kits: Restores HP based on skill check.
Increase Body:
Training (Strength, endurance).
Implants or magical augmentations.
Accomplishing great feats.
2. MIND
Primary Use: Spell accuracy, perception, tactics, mental resistances.
Roll: 1d6 (based on average of Talent & Magic).
Resource: Stress
Roll: 2d6
Stress Recovery:
Downtime: Restores 1dMind.
Mental Focus Rituals: Requires magical tools.
Tea, stimulants, or relaxation methods: Restores small amounts.
Magical Aid: Calm, Clarity spells.
Increase Mind:
Academic pursuit.
Mental focus enchantments or relics.
Strategy, schemes, and plans
3. SPIRIT
Primary Use: Magic affinity, mana capacity, attunement.
Roll: 1d4 (Common Magic).
Resource: Mana
Roll: 2d4
Mana Recovery:
Meditation: Regain 1dSpirit.
Mana Potions: Restores a fixed amount.
Leyline Zones: Recharge over time.
Magic Circles / Spell Nodes: Fast regeneration if attuned.
Increase Spirit:
Magical growth (studying arcana, bonding with relics).
Consuming rare mana-reactive substances.
Completing magical trials or rituals.
-
Let's roll for Stats -
Roll 1d8 for Body Stat! 6
Roll 1d6 for Mind Stat! 4
Roll 1d4 for Spirit Stat! 3
Let's roll for Resource Pools -
Roll 2d8 for Health Pool! 15
Roll 2d6 for Stress Pool! 8
Roll 2d4 for Mana Pool! 5
-
Character Profile Update
Name: Joshua "Edgeshot" Samuelson
Gender: Male | Age: 17
Magic: Reinforcement | Talent: D-Tier
Dorm: The Redhook Linehouse
Stats
Body: 6 | Health: 15/15
Mind: 4 | Stress: 8/8
Spirit: 3 | Mana: 5/5
Items: Black Ghost Licorice,
Skills: N/A
Spells: N/A
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Joshua's eyes swept across the display where glyphs danced in elegant motion, each pulsing with arcane resonance. Somehow, he understood their meanings — as if the language of magic had always lived just beneath his skin. Arcane Thaumaturgy. Magical Body Augmentation. Enchanting Foundations. Battle Divination. Fire Element Study.
So many paths. So many possibilities. It was almost too much.
He was grateful for the aide beside him — a luminous figure of shimmering thought and ancient guidance. His dormmates had warned him about the dizzying number of classes at the academy, and how easy it was for first-years to get lost in a sea of options. That's why these knowledge-spirits existed — to steer new students toward a path aligned with their talents, temperament, and potential.
The attendant's voice, calm and layered with centuries of understanding, highlighted the courses best suited for him. Joshua studied them, intrigued — but three immediately stood out. Among the swirling lights, three glyphs pulsed brighter than the rest — gunmetal gray, steel-blue, and red-gold — calling to him like old friends.
He reached out, fingers brushing the first shimmering sigil.
Class 1: Guncaster Fundamentals — Channeling Through Firearms!
Every trigger pull is a spell.
He saw a vision: bullets streaking with flame, a spell-slinger weaving magic through a rifle's barrel, mana pulsing with every shot. This was the bridge between his old world and the new — between his firearm and his magic.
Class 2: Arcane Gunsmithing — Building Magical Firearms
Your weapon is your partner — craft it like one.
Sparks flew as enchanted tools shaped glowing steel. In a rune-lit forge, artificers molded soul-bound weapons with sweat and sorcery. This would teach him to not just wield a gun, but forge one worthy of legends.
Class 3: Magical Ballistics — Mastering Magical Ammunition & Gunpowder
Magic in Motion. The science of arcane firepower.
The glyph erupted with kinetic energy — cartridges bursting with elemental fury, alchemical gunpowder. This was the heart of the weapon, the engine of destruction. Understanding this would tie everything together.
These classes were the perfect fit for him. Without hesitation, Joshua selected all three.
The attendant inclined its radiant head. "Selections confirmed: Guncaster Fundamentals. Arcane Gunsmithing. Magical Ballistics."
The interface shimmered, and the glyphs compressed into three bands of glowing energy that zipped into Joshua's wrist — burning themselves into his student badge. He winced, then felt a rush of strength flood his limbs, like a pact being sealed.
"Your schedule has been assigned. Congratulations, Joshua Samuelson. Your path is set."
Joshua nodded with quiet gratitude to the ghostly being, then turned toward the exit. With a final glance at the registry chamber — the floating banners, the murmuring crowds, the sacred chaos of first-year possibility — Joshua turned and stepped back into the ever-shifting staircase, the world underfoot cycling through jade, obsidian, and thunderstone. The sun outside cast a new light on his journey — and for the first time since arriving, he felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
-
Walking the campus grounds, Joshua let curiosity take the reins. With time to spare before the welcoming speech, he wandered — eager to glimpse what this strange new academy had to offer.
The path beneath his boots shimmered faintly, each brick inscribed with wayfinding runes that pulsed like a slow heartbeat. He passed beneath arching stone gates, where glyphs glowed and shifted overhead like constellations charting hidden roads. In the distance, towers rose in wild, improbable shapes — one spiraled from brass piping and whirring gearwork, puffing steam from hidden vents, while another gleamed like a glass-blown cathedral, its walls grown from crystal and mirror shards, humming with refracted sunlight.
Clusters of students milled about along the paths — some chatting animatedly, others locked in heated debates or playful duels of conjured magical sparks. Their robes varied in cut and color, bearing different sigils Joshua didn't yet recognize. One student hovered lazily on a broom that was clearly trying to buck her off. Another walked beside a floating chalkboard that scribbled lecture notes midair.
Several buildings caught Joshua's eye. One had its roof scorched in jagged bursts, its windows etched with layered wards that shimmered like oil on water. From inside came the rhythmic thump of magical discharges — the unmistakable sound of spells colliding with reinforced walls. A sign above the door flickered with charred lettering: Controlled Magicka Testing Site 8.
Further along, Joshua veered toward a low, wide structure flanked by two massive golems — ancient stone and steel creatures with runes carved deep into their chests. Inside, the air buzzed with arcane hums and metallic clicks. Mechanical limbs twitched on enchanted tables. Half-assembled constructs floated in stasis fields. A lone student in soot-stained goggles argued with a chassis that kept spewing fire from its mouth, despite her increasingly frantic incantations.
Down another path which opened into a quiet courtyard, filled with the scents of dry herbs, incense, and chalk dust. Floating benches circled a still pond that reflected skies Joshua didn't recognize — a nebula of moons and drifting stars. A staircase nearby shifted its steps automatically to suit a passing instructor, and above it, a garden bloomed midair, suspended by glittering threads of light.
Looming ahead in one direction was a pavilion with floating weapons such as elegant scythes and daggers engraved with runic symbols, responding to unseen rituals performed by veiled students under shadowy lanterns.
Everywhere he looked, strange and fascinating things hummed with potential and magic.
Everywhere Joshua looked, something was alive with magic. Things clicked, shifted, whispered, or shimmered just at the edge of perception. This wasn't just a school. It was a crucible for the wondrous, the dangerous, and the impossible. And this was where he found himself in, right in the middle of it all.
Taking a seat after he had his fill of wandering about, Joshua looked at the time wondering exactly when this welcoming speech would begin. Nobody mentioned exactly where it would be happening just that he had to wait until the time. Then just as if on cue something strange began to happen.
The air turned electric, humming with the kind of anticipation that precedes a lightning strike. Without warning, the bells across campus fell silent — not with a final note, but with an absolute absence, as if the world had paused to draw breath.
Then came a single clear tone rang that rang out across all dimensions, harmonic and impossible to place. It wasn't heard so much as felt — in his marrow, in the back of his eyes, in the fire of every being. A harmonic resonance that stirred something ancient and sleeping within every magically-attuned being.
Joshua looked up. Overhead, the sky began to fracture. Tremors begin to pass through the ground itself. And strangely enough everyone around him didn't seem to notice it.
The air above the courtyard he sat in shimmered like heat haze, though the morning was crisp and clear. Cracks of iridescent light spread across the myriad colored tapestry they called a sky here like a spiderweb of cracks on glass. Through the gaps, something else could be seen — a deeper sky. One made of constellations that shifted like clockwork, and an ocean of stars that moved with purpose.
A voice whispered across the breeze, gently and soothing: "All first-years. Assemble."
Students across campus began to pause in their tracks and drift up into the air as if drawn by invisible threads. Joshua found himself swept into the current as his body lifted gently from the stone bench he sat on a moment ago. He saw hundreds of new students like him, ascending past arched causeways and over gravity-defying bridges as they spiraled upward.
Picking up speed as they flitted up like shooting stars, a vast open amphitheater awaited, carved directly into the side of a floating dark purple mesa bathed in twilight. Where they were was beyond no ordinary space, but a space that existed between realms.
The amphitheater was impossibly large, lined with stair-tiered stone seats and gleaming runic pylons that glowed softly around its rim, keeping in rhythm with the heartbeat of the dimension. In the sky overhead, a protective dome arched above made of light fractured like stained glass in hues of gold, violet, deep green which crackled with magical energy.
Then the sky began to change. Igniting, one by one with massive circular glyphs in the air, orbiting each other in slow, deliberate synchrony. Each one bore a crest — a different school or division, a different field of magic. From Alchemy to Blood, Space to Divination, Enchanting to Necromancy and so on. They pulsed like stars being born.
Gasps rippled through the crowd as they arrived.
Holograms? Spirits? Projections? Real? It was hard to say. Figures appeared atop floating platforms — faculty members, instructors, even professors, and other entities less clearly defined. Some were humanoid, others not. One was a shifting pillar of fire that spoke in braille-like sparks. Another was a humanoid tree that bloomed with knowledge-infused flowers each time it moved.
The murmurs died as a new presence descended. A figure stepped from a rift of white and violet starry flame. Clad in sweeping robes embroidered with galaxies and armed with a staff taller than any man orbiting him like a moon, their face was shrouded by a half-mask of silver and onyx.
Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/559642691214988137/
With their arrival, the different people on stage bowed to him in varying degrees, all showing him reverence and honor. He — or perhaps they — stood at the center dais as all other forms dimmed. For the briefest of moments, Joshua saw more of the man as he stood on the stage. His true presence unveiled itself and it was horrendous. His knees buckled, and his very soul tried to recoil in terror.
As quickly as that image appeared in his mind, it was gone, and the man spoke.
Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/559642691214969824/
"I'm Dean Caldrein Verx, Leader of the College of Astral Studies. Master of the Astral Orrery. Warden of the Forgotten Orbits. Watcher of the Darkest Sky. Witness of the Thirteenth Eclipse." A voice echoed in everyone's mind. A name not to be spoken aloud, but to be remembered.
"Welcome, initiates," the dean said, and though his mouth barely moved, the words boomed as if whispered into their souls. "You have stepped onto a path from which there is no return. You are no longer in the safe embrace of your homeworld, but at the Magical School. It is the loom upon which the future is woven. A Crucible where you will be made anew with purpose by the Academy."
The amphitheater grew still as everyone took in his words.
"Here, your will shall be tested. Your mind sharpened. Your magic—unleashed, or consumed. There are no guarantees at the Academy. Only the promise of power. Those who survive our trials will become legends. They shall stride upon the many worlds of the Multiverse as great and terrible beings unleashing their pure might. The rest…"
He let the silence speak. Some students exchanged uneasy glances, others stood up straighter with glee and avarice.
"You were not chosen because you are ready. You were chosen because something within you hungered. For greatness. For vengeance. For discovery. For something more. That hunger is your key, and your curse."
A new pulse of power echoed through the air. Sigils flared to life above every student's head for an instant — a glowing affirmation of presence and entry.
"Each of you carries potential. That is not enough. Here, you will be broken and reforged. You will crawl through the guts of magic, clawing your way to understanding. Some of you will rise as icons. Some of you… will vanish. This is the price of power: risk. This is the promise of the Academy: transcendence."
The glyphs above flashed once — and began to rotate slowly. Then: silence. "Now, let the New Cycle begin."
Then, just as suddenly, the amphitheater began to dissolve like smoke in the wind. Not the stone, but the space itself — folding and collapsing into nothingness as the platform beneath them shifted. Some students stumbled, but the transition was smooth, frictionless as they were brought back to the ground.
The speech was over. And the semester had begun.
-
The moment the otherworldly amphitheater unraveled into threads of vanishing starlight, Joshua felt his boots strike solid ground once more—though it was not the same ground he had left. He blinked, eyes adjusting to the shift. The transition had been seamless, but it carried the quiet weight of great magic. Dean Verrin's words still echoed faintly in his head, and occupied his thoughts.
Around him, students passed by without pause, unbothered by his sudden arrival—just as they hadn't noticed his departure. It had to be the Dean's doing: subtle magic, the kind that moved like a whisper and left no ripple in the world.
Curious, Joshua turned to take in his new surroundings—and froze.
Before him rose a structure that shattered expectations and defied logic. A massive cube balanced impossibly on one of its points, rotating slowly in place like a monument to forgotten truths too old to be remembered. Its surface shimmered with a flawless sapphire sheen, and across its faces rippled runes like glacial tides—moving, shifting, murmuring in a language older than time.
The Grand Library of the Academy. It appeared to newcomers as a monolithic cube, but it wasn't built—it had manifested. Grown from thought, from purpose, from the raw concept of knowledge itself. It was a vault of all magical knowledge in the multiverse.
Nestled between two arcing spires linked by floating crystal bridges, the library turned lazily in quiet defiance of logic. Its etched glyphs pulsed not with light, but with awareness—responding to the minds of those who dared to gaze upon it. Joshua didn't know how Dean Verrin had known this was where he would go next, but here he stood at the threshold of his destination.
Walking up the steps that lead to the building, Joshua came before the towering cube which seemed to slow its spin in recognition, the runes along its surface shifting into symbols he almost—but not quite—understood. A strange sensation tugged at the edge of his thoughts, like the brush of forgotten memories, as if the library had already begun cataloging his presence.
There was no door. No knob, no archway, no grand set of steps. Just a thin seam of shimmering light suspended within a metallic frame—a threshold of intent, as if the structure waited for you to mean it before letting you in.
Seeing the others just walking right into the steel like frame, Joshua stepped forward, the surface rippling like a stone being dropped in a pond as he did. The moment he crossed the veil, the world twisted—gravity turned on its side, light bent inward, and sound softened into reverence. In a blink, he was elsewhere.
He emerged into a gravity-defiant cathedral of books. Inside, the Grand Library was impossibly vast—larger than the exterior should allow. A place not of stone or brick, but one shaped from pure, distilled knowledge folding into architecture that defied logic and reason. The space stretched beyond sight, as if it were built inside the mind of some ancient, dreaming god.
Staircases spiraled through emptiness, Mobius strips of knowledge weaving through vertical and sideways planes. Towering shelves curled in fractal loops, many hundreds of feet tall, stacked with tomes whose spines shimmered with alien scripts and forgotten languages. Some shelves rotated on invisible axes; others blinked in and out of existence, phasing into neighboring dimensions.
Tomes the size of carriages drifted through the air like birds of prey, flapping parchment wings as they relocated themselves to more appropriate shelves. Others darted away skittishly from approaching students, refusing to be touched without proper intent or credentials.
Floating platforms shaped like lotus petals drifted across a yawning chasm far below, where a black ocean of suspended ink pulsed with slow, bioluminescent light. Up above, sigils hovered in midair like sentient index cards, rearranging themselves to reflect the queries they sensed blooming in curious minds.
Here, sound whispered instead of echoed, and gravity bent to silence. Every breath Joshua took seemed both magnified and muted. The air itself thrummed with arcane possibility—a low, ambient hum that made the hair on his arms stand and his magic lean forward, attentive.
Scattered across the infinite space, he glimpsed other students: some perched in reading alcoves shaped like hollowed-out skulls of great beasts, others floating in midair, conversing with projection-spirits—ghostly echoes of long-dead authors, philosophers, and sorcerers who'd penned the tomes in their hands. One pair of students furiously scribbled on rotating scrolls as a swarm of inkbirds corrected their footnotes mid-sentence. Another student leapt after a fluttering manuscript that snapped at their fingers like a cat made of binding thread and teeth.
The reason he was here for today was one purpose: to understand his Reinforcement Magic.
When he'd asked his dormmates that morning where to start, the answer had been unanimous: The Grand Library. The Infinite Archive.
Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/9851692931863130/
It would contain all the knowledge he would need about his magic. Though there was a lot they mentioned about it, like that the Library was alive. That it watched. It listened. It remembered every student that passed through its endless halls. Some said it tested them. Some said it recorded their thoughts forever in volumes yet to be written.
Others whispered of hidden passages where time flowed backward or forward, where knowledge that had been long forgotten or yet to be uncovered could be found. However better to be careful that you don't get stuck in the timestreams like many did still wandering these halls.
They also mentioned other things which were rumors at best or legends like Oblivion Stacks, where books that erase themselves (and your memory of them) are kept under constant magical lockdown. The Pillar of Echoes, where knowledge is shared by reliving the memories of those who lived it. The Hall of Failed Ideas, haunted by abandoned spells and discarded theorems still clinging to existence.
And so many other things. With his eyes darting about, Joshua spotted what he was looking for.
It was a strange being, formed entirely of paper and ink, with a tall, spindly figure and a face composed of overlapping calligraphy. As it shelved a tome whose title shifted every minutes, Joshua stepped forward.
"Hello," he said carefully, his voice swallowed by the hush of the place. "Could I get some assistance?" The creature paused in its task, then turned to face him.
Its movements were fluid, quiet, and utterly unmechanical—like the turning of a page. A voice responded, soft and papery, like wind riffling through dry parchment: "How may I assist you?"
These were the Library Assistants, eternal stewards of the Archive. Constructed from forgotten manuscripts and bound with living ink, they were as much a part of the Library as the shelves themselves.
"I'd like any books you have on Reinforcement Magic," Joshua said, presenting his badge.
The assistant leaned forward—though it had no visible eyes—and studied the sigil pulsing faintly on his badge. "First-Year. D-Tier," it intoned, with neither judgment nor praise.
"Your request is acknowledged," the assistant said. Without another word, the assistant raised one long arm and—with a rustle and a snap—tore a narrow strip of text from its own body. The exposed seam instantly resealed, as if the paper healed itself.
From its opposite shoulder, a quill of blackened ivory ink unfurled like a blooming feather. Dipping it into a liquid glyph that pooled midair, the assistant began to write. What flowed from its pen was not handwriting—it was art, language woven into living geometry. The ink shimmered silver-blue and seemed to rearrange itself with each passing second, morphing between spell-script, runes, and long-dead tongues.
Once finished, the assistant handed the glowing parchment to Joshua. The list was warm to the touch. He took it hesitantly. "Thank you," he said with a small nod.
The assistant didn't reply. It had already turned back to its task, shelving a tome that groaned softly as it was slotted between two whispering volumes. Joshua already been forgotten.
Stepping away from it, he called upon another of the library's residents with a whistle, softened by the place as the sound was barely audible, more a feeling than a tone, but something heard him. A few seconds passed, and then:
Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/531565562287975335/
From the air above, something fluttered down through the stacks like falling snow. A mechanical owl glided toward him on delicate wings of bronze and silk-thread gears. Its feathers gleamed with etched runes, and its eyes clicked softly as it focused in on him. It landed neatly on his outstretched arm—light, but buzzing with quiet, arcane machinery.
The symbol of the Library: the owls, sometimes called the Silent Flock of the Library. Tireless book-runners and information couriers.
"Hey," Joshua said with a half-smile, holding up the parchment. "Could you fetch these for me?"
The owl tilted its head once, silently. Then it extended one tiny talon, took the list from his hand, and launched upward in a quiet flurry of gears and wind. Gone. Just like that, the retrieval had begun.
With nothing else to do for the moment, Joshua let out a slow breath and turned to find a place to sit. Around him, the Grand Library sprawled in its impossible stillness—a temple of secrets and knowledge.
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Alright, your academic rolls are not great so I'll be using a Random Event to help you suckers.
🎲 Reading Spot – Random Event Table (1d6)
Roll 1d6
1 – Cursed Carrel: (-5 academic roll)
An abandoned reading desk haunted by a ghostly scholar who mutters incorrect footnotes and shuffles pages at random. Sitting too long here causes minor magical migraines and spontaneous nosebleeds.
2 – Drifting Drafts: (-3 academic roll)
An exposed corner on a floating balcony with no railing. Wind constantly ruffles pages and tries to steal bookmarks. One wrong sneeze and your tome's in the abyss.
3 – Ink-stained Alcove: (0 academic roll)
Cramped space between two shelves that smells of old parchment and candle soot. Not great lighting, but it's quiet and oddly cozy—if you don't mind your sleeves getting occasional ink blotches.
4 – Whisper Nook: (+3 academic roll)
A small room shielded by enchanted curtains. Faint magical whispers occasionally give helpful context about the material you're reading… or unsettling commentary about your future.
5 – Memory Pool Bench: (+5 academic roll)
A serene seat beside a basin of memory-water. Dip your hand in, and you can see a concept from the book illustrated in illusionary fragments above the water. Deeply insightful.
6 – Astral Reading Dome: (+10 academic roll)
A transparent sphere hovering over the library's center. Zero-gravity comfort, fully soundproofed, and an enchantment auto-translates any book into the reader's native tongue. Scholars fight duels to reserve this one.
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Rolled 3, Ink-stained Alcove.
As the owl flew off, wings whirring in rhythmic clicks, Joshua turned to find a place to sit. He wandered through a few passageways of shifting shelves and ink-lit corridors before settling into a modest niche tucked between two towering bookcases.
It was an ink-stained alcove, dimly lit by a flickering lantern suspended from a curling wrought-iron vine. The air smelled faintly of dust and old parchment, and the seat—while serviceable—was far from luxurious. Inkblots marred the surface of the desk, and a few faded scribbles danced across the wood, remnants of past students who had passed through, frustrated or inspired.
It offered no magical benefits, no silent wards of focus or temporal bubbles of extended study time. Just a quiet corner, worn and used, honest in its age.
Still, Joshua sat down with a sigh. The spot wasn't special—but it was his for now.
He rested his elbows on the desk, eyes drifting toward the shifting skylight far above, waiting for his books to arrive. Moments passed. Then minutes. The quiet of the Grand Library settled around Joshua like a cloak—faint rustling from wandering pages, the occasional creak of shifting shelves, and the low, ambient thrum of latent magic.
Then came the soft clink of talons. The clockwork owl returned, descending in a lazy spiral before landing neatly beside him on the desk. Its brass feathers clicked softly, and its eyes glowed faintly blue as it opened a hatch in its chest. With a puff of script-scented steam, it presented the books, stacked neatly—glowing slightly with soft, warded enchantments that protected them from time, tampering, or theft.
Looking over the titles written in a mix of runic glyphs and translated script, he read them over:
"Forged Flesh"
"Hand-Crafted Power"
"The Warrior's Weave"
"Primer on Magical Reinforcement"
"Steel and Sinew"
"Bulwarks of Will"
"Structural Strengthening"
Each tome seemed heavier than it looked—not in weight, but in presence. Joshua rubbed his palms together and pulled the first one which interested him toward him, that being the Primer on Magical Reinforcement and flipping open its cover. The text shimmered faintly, arranging itself into understandable words tailored to his language and cognition. The texts were dense. Esoteric. But Joshua combed through them with focused hunger.
A diagram of a skeletal hand overlaid with glowing mana channels appeared, accompanied by notes on how reinforcement magic wasn't about brute enhancement—it was the precise calibration of boosting beyond one's own limitations.
He leaned in, utterly absorbed. The hours slipped by. Diagrams, techniques, stories of past mages who shattered limits—or themselves. Charts diagrammed the flow of magic through the bloodstream, notes annotated how certain frequencies of willpower yielded stronger bodily returns. Applications of reinforcement not just for strength, but for reaction speed, bone density, perception tuning, even emotional resistance. There were warnings too—tales of users who pushed too far and became something else.
Let's roll for Progress
Reinforcement Magic: 0/?
Threshold 1: 10
1d8 Academics Roll + 0(Ink-stained Alcove)
Rolled 6, 6/50
-
Stretching his back with a quiet groan, Joshua felt the tension in his shoulders ease—along with something deeper. He was close. The ideas were starting to click, to cohere. Concepts that had felt abstract only hours ago now tugged at his instincts, just out of reach.
But the light around him had dimmed to the color of tired ink, and the ambient hum of the Grand Library had softened — a gentle reminder that even in a place where time bent, schedules still mattered. He closed the tome he had been reading with reverent care, the pages sighing shut. The owl returned with a whisper of wings, somehow knowing he was done for the day and took his books and flitting silently into the air.
Joshua gave it a way, and pressed his coat pocket where his list laid. Without further ado, he got up giving the place one last glance, then turned and made his way down the spiraling path—bookshelves folding themselves away behind him like a library exhaling in contentment.
"Alright," he murmured. "I got a train to catch which won't wait."
With that, he called it a day.
Day 2 Begins – Schedule Planning
You are starting your second day at the magical school, last free day before classes begin.
Due to your D-Tier Talent, your body, mind, and spirit can only handle 3 ACTIONS per day. These actions are split across three parts of the day:
Time Slots
Morning (6 AM – 12 PM)
Afternoon (12 PM – 6 PM)
Evening (6 PM – 10 PM)
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Morning – FREE ACTION SLOT
Afternoon – FREE ACTION SLOT
Evening – FREE ACTION SLOT
Suggested Options:
Explore the Redhook Linehouse Dormitory
Bond with Redhook Linehouse Dormmate(Name)
Head to the Grand Library and Research(Subject)
Join a school Club(last day)
Introduce yourself to instructors(Teacher's Pet)
Personal Training(Skill/Spell)
Buy/Sell at the Bazaar of Realities
Attend First-Year Welcoming Party(last day)
Go on Academy Missions
Go Hunting
Apply for a Part-Time Job
(Write-in)